Silencing the stage

The Punjab government’s decision to impose a lifetime ban on theatre artists and dancers accused of ‘obscenity’ is an alarming throwback to the state’s long history of suppressing cultural expression.

Much like previous bans on literature, dance, and female anchors and artists in media, this decision reflects the state’s reluctance to address systemic issues with affinity and reform. Instead, it chooses the brusque instrument of censorship, a weapon that has repeatedly failed to yield positive results and has instead left permanent scars on society.

Pakistan has seen many cases where the state has aimed to enforce moral and cultural policing under the air of sheltering social values. One of the earliest and most evident examples is the ban on Saadat Hasan Manto’s writings. Manto, a literary giant, faced persistent persecution for his stories, which held a mirror to the bitter realities of society, including its hypocrisy and moral decay. His writings, such as ‘Thanda Gosht’ and ‘Bu’, were labelled obscene, and he was dragged to the courts repeatedly. However, decades later, Manto’s writings are celebrated globally as masterpieces of Urdu literature, while the society that defamed him remains riddled with the issues he highlighted.

Similarly, during the Ziaul Haq era, the state imposed ruthless and oppressive restrictions on female representation in media and the arts. Women dancers were banned from films, and actresses and news anchors were forced to take dupattas on screen. Instead of protecting morality as intended, these actions suffocated creativity and led to the destruction of a once-booming film and television industry. Many talented female artists left the country or shunned their professions, dismantling Pakistan’s cultural icons and role models.

These examples also show that bans have never solved societal problems. Instead, they expose the state’s insecurities and inability to engage with deeper structural and systemic issues. The ban on Manto’s writings and women artists during Zia’s regime did not cultivate a healthier or more moral society; they only choked creativity, suppressed objections, and alienated individuals who could have adorned the nation’s cultural environment.

Today’s theatre artists, especially women, live under similar pressures. The majority of these individuals are struggling to survive. They often work in abusive conditions, facing harassment, financial instability and ignominy or societal stigma. Women theatre artists, in particular, are unreasonably affected as they manoeuvre a patriarchal system that marginalises them further at every turn.

For many of these women, theatre is not a passion but a means of survival. They work tirelessly, sometimes performing multiple shows daily, to support their families. The government’s decision to impose a lifetime ban on these artists is not just an attack on their profession but their fundamental right to live.

The state’s strategy to solve problems through bans exposes a ‘distressing’ ignorance of the human needs of the people it seeks to curb. Instead of addressing the systemic issues that scourge the theatre industry – such as lack of training, exploitation, and absence of social security or protections – the government has preferred to target the most vulnerable.

No government-funded art schools or academies exist where aspiring artists can learn and develop their craft. There is no financial support for struggling artists or protection against exploitation. How, then, can the state justify taking away the bread and butter of these individuals without providing any alternative?

Theatre has long been a platform for challenging ethos, stimulating debates, and nurturing public participation. By targeting theatre artists, the government is attacking a main pillar of society that has the potential to instigate change and progress.

Banning artists under the pretences of ‘obscenity’ is a fallacious attempt to control social behaviour. Art is not a threat – it is a reflection of society. The government must recognise that the theatre industry, like all cultural expressions, holds up a mirror to our collective experiences and struggles. To suppress it is to deny our truths.

History shows that moral policing disproportionately affects women. Female artists have always been the first to bear the burden of censorship and bans, whether it was Manto’s female characters being labelled obscene or Zia’s restrictions forcing actresses and news anchors to adapt inflexible dress codes.

Today’s ban on theatre artists will have the same impact, pushing many women out of the industry and into more substantial economic and social risks. Instead of protecting their dignity, the state is dooming them to an uncertain future.

Bans do not solve systemic problems – they only mask them temporarily, leaving the fundamental issues to decay. If the government is serious about addressing the challenges in the theatre industry, it must take a more thoughtful, pragmatic and constructive approach.

First, establish art academies: The government should invest in art schools and training programs where artists can learn and develop their craft in a professional environment.

Second, provide financial support: Artists should be given access to grants, pensions, and healthcare to ensure their financial and social security.

Third, regulate, do not punish: The state should introduce guidelines to promote professionalism in the theatre industry rather than taking vindictive steps.

The ban on Manto’s writings, women dancers and dupatta-less anchors did not create a healthier or more noble society. They only exposed the impotence of state institutions and their inability to engage with complex social issues. The current ban on theatre artists is not different. It reflects a lack of vision and a failure to address the root causes of the challenges faced by the industry.

Theatre artists are not the problem. They are the mirrors of our society. Suppressing them will only damage our social and cultural norms. It is time for the state to desert its punitive approach and invest in strengthening and protecting its artists. Only then can we hope to build a society that values creativity, humanity and progress.

The writer is a journalist, researcher and human rights activist.